


Little Imperfections

by Ryuchu



Category: Persona 5
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 13:56:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11358891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuchu/pseuds/Ryuchu
Summary: Mishima suddenly starts noticing small, little things that prove that Akira's not quite as perfect as he may build him up to be.





	Little Imperfections

**Author's Note:**

> More fluffy(?), self-indulgent nonsense. My apologies.

“Kurusu...”

The almost irreverent way Mishima whispered his name spiked Akira's heart rate with a combination of pleasure and anxiety. He's fairly certain Mishima's wasn't even aware of his bad habit of looking at him as less of a boyfriend and more of a trophy. Akira's tried several times to gently get the point across, drop little hints that he isn't something to be constantly in awe of, but Mishima seemed glibly oblivious of both what he was doing and any of Akira's attempts to bring it up.

So he had invited him over today – the first time inviting him to the attic, alone – fully prepared to sit down and have a serious discussion about it.

That was mistake number one.

As soon as it clicked in Akira's brain the situation he had created for himself (and judging by Mishima's luminescent blush and nervous body language, he had caught on as well) it instantly became impossible to form coherent thought, let alone broach the subject Akira had been preparing for. Instead, they stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, exchanging short, clipped sentences and forced laughs. Trying desperately to keep this entire plan from falling spectacularly on its face, Akira sat down on his bed and invited Mishima to do the same. After a brief moment of hesitation, he joined him.

That was mistake number two.

If Akira thought them being in the same room was bad, sitting on the bed together was like willingly walking into the lion's den. He fought valiantly against the thickening atmosphere at first, trying a number of times to broach the subject. However, it quickly became obvious that Mishima wasn't retaining any of it, his mindlessly automatic replies of “yeah” and “uh-huh” every time Akira paused being the only sign he was even aware he was being spoken to.

In retrospect, grabbing his hand to try and get his attention may not have been Akira's smartest decision.

That was mistake number three.

Three strikes and you're out.

From there, Akira's not sure he could reconstruct the exact chain of events even if he tried. He remembered Mishima holding his hand in such a strong vice grip that he couldn't really enjoy the feeling of his lips pushing against his for the first kiss. Beyond that though, all he could clearly recall was the kisses getting more heated and bold on both of their parts. At some point he lost his glasses; at some point they tumbled backwards onto the bed with Mishima on top of him.

Then Mishima whispered his name, his thumbs tracing gentle lines across his cheekbones, and-

“You have freckles?”

With those three words, Akira's head instantly cleared and the eloquence that he usually tried to keep such a conscious command of evaporated. Dumbly, he looked up at Mishima, who studied his face with curious eyes and fingers.

Even with a pause for him to find his voice again, all Akira could seem to come up with was a confused, “...Huh?”

“Yeah!” Mishima said, his voice picking up in excitement, “They're kinda faint, but you can see them when you're up this close. They're probably easier to see 'cause you're not wearing your glasses too.”

Throughout the entirety of his outburst, Mishima continued to trace his face and Akira felt his cheeks flare despite himself. Above him, Mishima gave a tiny gasp of delight and his smile seemed to glow all the brighter at this new development.

“Oh! You can see them really clearly when you blush!”

“Y-Yeah,” Akira replied, finally finding at least part of his voice again, “They always flare up in the summer from all the sun. Hawaii really did a number on them.”

At his response, Mishima's excitement seemed to dull slightly, his fingers stopping their exploration.

“What do you mean 'flare up'? You act like they're bad or something.”

Akira couldn't stop a crooked smile from finding it way to his face. It had been a while since he had to explain this one to anyone.

“Well, they're not exactly common. I got teased about them a lot when I was a kid. That makes them a bit hard to like.”

Mishima's smile dropped further as his eyes clouded with a cocktail of emotions Akira couldn't quite place. His hands slowly fell away, but his eyes continued to study his face.

“It's kinda hard to imagine you being self-conscious about something. You always seem so...perfect, y'know?”

The corners of Akira's smile tweaked up. Maybe they would be having this conversation today after all.

“I'm only human,” he said with a carefree shrug of his shoulders.

Akira watched as Mishima's face ran through a full gamut of emotions before settling on what seems to be a combination of confusion and curiosity. To Akira's surprise, he clamored off him and leaned up against the wall, his feet dangling over the edge of the bed. A few seconds later, Akira joined him, the both of them staring in silence out at the dusty attic.

“When we were...kissing earlier,” Mishima finally began, this time it's his turn for his cheeks to flush, “I, uhm, noticed that one of your teeth is chipped. How'd that happen?”

Subconsciously, Akira's tongue ran over the tooth in question. He was surprised Mishima was perceptive enough to pick up on that one, especially while they were in the middle of kissing.

“I got into a fight when I was about twelve,” he answered honestly, “Some older kids were tormenting a cat and I bit off more then I could chew, ended up smashing my mouth into the pavement. If one of the neighbors hadn't stepped in, it probably would've ended a lot worse for me. Saved the cat though. Got a scratch for my troubles and never saw it again.”

Akira couldn't stop a wry smile from creeping to his lips at the memory, but next to him Mishima remained silent. The tension in the room felt suddenly palpable as Akira waited for what he might say next.

“Sounds like you were a pretty reckless kid.”

“Eh, I was probably about as reckless as Ryuji is right now. Not sure if that says more about me or about him though.”

He meant it as a joke to break the increasingly heavier atmosphere, but the only response he got from Mishima was a weak, halfhearted smile. Akira felt his heart clench in sudden panic. A corner of his mind had been whispering for a while now that he could very well be hurtling headlong into ending his own relationship. He wanted to trust Mishima – he _did_ trust Mishima – but no matter how he tried to chase it away, the possibility forever lurked at the most elusive corners of his mind.

Maybe what Mishima wanted wasn't Akira Kurusu.

Maybe what Mishima wanted was Joker, the infallible leader of the Phantom Thieves.

Akira was about to be the one to speak up when he felt a light pressure on his hand. He looked down to find Mishima's hand covering his own, his fingers lightly tracing the line of a scar that ran between Akira's thumb and pointer finger.

“Did you get this one from being a reckless kid too?” He finally asked.

Akira couldn't help but look away. If Mishima was looking for someone perfect to date, then the story of that scar was absolutely going to be the nail in the coffin of their relationship. But in the end, more than anything he wanted Mishima to know him as he was, not as he imagined him to be.

“Only if you consider something that happened in my first year of high school being a reckless kid.”

“Wha- really? It's that recent? What did you do?”

Beside him, he can feel Mishima shift to look at him, but Akira can't quite bring himself to look back.

“A friend dared me to try to flip and catch a kitchen knife. Obviously, I didn't quite win that bet. All I really won was a tongue lashing from probably every adult in a five mile radius.”

To his infinite relief, he heard Mishima give a soft chuckle, but he said nothing more. As the two of them continued to sit there, Akira felt his thoughts run in circles. On the one hand, he was happy this conversation had happened, albeit not quite in the way he had expected; on the other hand, that whisper at the corner of his mind was screaming that in about two seconds, he would find himself without a boyfriend.

Instead, what happened was Mishima laced his fingers between Akira's and scooted slightly closer so their knees were touching. Akira's anxiety was replaced with excited jitters as his heart rate jumped again and the atmosphere began to creep back to what it had been before Mishima's observation. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

“You really are human.”

It was an obvious statement, but Akira knew it was the beginning of an important realization for Mishima. He could tell that he was gearing up to say more, so he squeezed his hand encouragingly and looked over at him, waiting. A second later, Mishima squeezed back before continuing.

“No, but, you really _are_ human,” Mishima repeated, his eyes meeting Akira's, “You do dumb shit, make stupid choices, have things you don't like about yourself, and mess up.”

“Gotta admit that's not the greatest thing to hear from my boyfriend,” Akira said as he used his free hand to fiddle with his bangs. Sure he wanted to have this conversation, but he also kind of wanted to maintain at least _some_ cool points in Mishima's eyes.

“No, it's a good thing!” Mishima answered with conviction as he gripped Akira's hand tighter and excitedly drew closer, their faces now mere inches apart, “It's a _great_ thing, 'cause I've been worrying about not being...as perfect as...”

Akira watched as all at once it seemed to once more register in Mishima's head how very close and very alone they were. Finally, the earlier atmosphere returned in full force accompanied by Mishima's face flushing nearly scarlet and a quiet “oh” escaping him. He quickly broke Akira's gaze, his eyes settling once more on his cheeks.

“T-They're really cute. T-The freckles, I mean.”

With the sudden return of Mishima's nervous stuttering, Akira felt his usual confidence returning as well.

“How many times have I heard you complain about being called cute and now you want to use it on me?”

“S-Sorry,” Mishima's eyes left his face, but it didn't take long for him to look back up once again. His eyes glittered with what could only be described as playful teasing, “Did you want me to talk about how uncool it is to have a scar from trying to show off with a knife instead?”

Akira couldn't help but smile at that one. He knew this conversation was far from over, that he still needed to sit Mishima down and talk like he had been planning. However, he figured Mishima had made some progress on his own today and the whispering in his head seemed to have quieted down; it could wait until his thoughts weren't positively swimming.

Boldly, he closed the short distance between the two of them and pressed his lips to Mishima. He was gratified to find him instantly kissing back, the intensity matching his own. Akira pulled away a few seconds later, the glazed look on Mishima's face causing him to smirk.

“The only thing I really want right now is for us to pick this back up right where we left off, no freckle comments this time.”


End file.
